Read Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) for Free Online

gravely voice, but no brogue.
    “ Does that mean you booked a flight to Paris?”
    “ It does.”
    “ And you’re leaving me with this—” I waved my arm over the wood statues.
    “ Better you than me. And I do hope you enjoy the other statues.”
    My brow furrowed, then I remembered. “Oh, yeah. Are they just like the Wind in the Willows illustrations?” I grinned. Toad, Mole and Ratty are my favorite talking animals in children’s literature.
    “ So lifelike you'd expect them to invite you along for a picnic.”
    “ Perfect,” I murmured. If I placed the characters in a sunny spot, visitors would naturally want to spread their blankets and enjoy boxed lunches in their company.
    Rupert chuckled. “You have that scheming look, so I’ll leave you to it.”
    “ Call me if you buy anything,” I said, but Rupert was already gone. My request was pointless anyway. In his pursuit of oddities and treasures, Rupert forgot all about the less important details like whether or not the item would fit in a display case.
    After pulling my knees up to sit more comfortably cross-legged, I flipped open the laptop. Where to begin? I propped one of the male figures against a stack of books.
    “Where’d you come from?”
    He gave me the silent treatment, lower lip protruding and ears poised for take-off.
    “I can’t post pictures of you on the forums until Sheriff Marge says it’s okay, so it looks like I’m on my own.”
    I sighed. Talking to my dog, Tuppence, at home was one thing. Talking to a wood statue in my office was quite another. I grabbed a pencil and jotted a list of possible search terms.
    “Here we go,” I said to my little inanimate audience.
    Three hours later, after uncountable rabbit trails, goose chases and tangents, I'd had my fill of wood carvings. From whimsical to freakish to downright scary, nothing looked like the statues from the Rittenour shipment.
    I balanced my wordless companion across my palm. He was heavy, too heavy for any kind of wood I knew. That could be the key.
    I clicked through a few links and found a reference to microscopic wood analysis, where super thin cross- and tangential sections are shaved off with a razor blade. The mini-chips are examined under a microscope, and the cell structures are compared to known samples for identification.
    I dialed Greg Boykin, my graduate student intern. He had just returned to Oregon State University with a smaller cast on his fractured ankle. We’d fallen into the same cavern several days apart and both came out with broken bones. I shifted the sling that held my shoulder in place while my collarbone healed, grateful we’d been rescued. It had been a close call for Greg.
    “ Hiya. Do you know anyone in the forestry research department?” I asked.
    “ Uh, no.”
    “ Think you could talk to them anyway? See if someone could do microscopic wood analysis for me?”
    “ Shoot, Meredith, what are you up to? Wait a minute. I have to write this down.”
    “ Sorry. Are you walking?”
    “ Yeah. I’m late for class. I still forget crossing campus takes twice as long on crutches.” He paused as he rustled through his backpack. “Okay. Ready.”
    “ We had some excitement here this morning. I’ll tell you about it when you come up after Thanksgiving. But the net result is that I’m researching wood statues from either Africa, Asia or Australia. A comprehensive Internet search came up empty. They’re extraordinarily heavy, so I’m hoping the wood type will help narrow the region of origin. If I get approval from Sheriff Marge, I could send one for sampling.”
    “ Sheriff Marge? Was it criminal excitement?”
    “ Could be.”
    Greg whistled. “Nothing like a little mystery to get a scientist salivating. I’ll find somebody and let you know.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
    The next morning, I hurried to my doctor ’s appointment. The hospital is in the town of Lupine, the Sockeye County seat and